


Come Up And See Me (Make Me Smile)

by toastandjammies



Series: Thomas Barrow Xmas prompts 2020 [8]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28076940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastandjammies/pseuds/toastandjammies
Summary: "I hear you have been a very naughty boy, Mr. Barrow."
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Chris Webster
Series: Thomas Barrow Xmas prompts 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031088
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23
Collections: A Very Thomas Barrow Christmas 2020





	Come Up And See Me (Make Me Smile)

**Author's Note:**

> for A Very Thomas Barrow Christmas 2020:
> 
> **10\. Father Christmas - Character A has to dress up as Father Christmas, how does character B react?**
> 
> I just _had_ to write a fic for this ship for one of the prompts, if only because the ship name is Chrismas (and because Chris Webster deserved better!). I had a lot of fun trying to figure out what kind of boyfriend Chris would be, I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I did writing it!
> 
> Takes place in early December 1928, about one and a half years after the movie. The police raid never happened because it was dumb and unnecessary, just let the gays have fun ok?? rip to fellowes but I'm different
> 
> (title stolen from Steve Harley and Cockney Rebel)

When Chris Webster had swaggered over to him at the bar all those months ago Thomas had thought him very bold, almost terrifyingly so, but the man had radiated a confidence and charm that ended up being irresistable to him. He'd followed him despite his initial reservation, and he was very happy he had given in. 

After an exhilarating evening of dancing, drinking, and stolen kisses, they had stayed in contact - and now he was sitting in Chris's flat in York after having spent the night there for the third time in a little over a year. Chris had even stayed at the Grantham Arms for a night once. As far as relationships went for his sort, this one was starting to feel pretty steady. Being butler had its merits: if he said he had errands to run in York - whether it be for an afternoon or two whole days - then that was that. He smiled into his tea cup. He'd never dared to dream that life would go his way in such a wonderful fashion. 

"Are you ready, love?" Chris walked over to him with a mysterious-looking valise and kissed Thomas's temple in passing. "We should get going if we want to get everything ready in time." 

Thomas downed the last of his tea and got up. "You're the one who was busy doing god knows what in your bedroom, I've just been sitting here waiting," he smirked. 

"Cheeky," Chris rumbled in that low voice of his, pulling Thomas close for a proper kiss. He hummed against the other man's mouth, a pleased little noise that Thomas felt through his entire body and made him want to drag the man back into the bedroom. Chris pulled back slightly and smiled at the dazed look on Thomas's face. "C'mon then." 

Thomas followed without any further complaints. 

They were headed for Turton's; the men always held an early Christmas party, and this was Thomas's first time. He assumed the small valise Chris was carrying contained decorations, as they were meant to spruce the place up a bit with the help of a small group of patrons before everyone else arrived. Thomas had protested briefly ("I have enough bloody decoratin' to do at the House this month"), but Chris had turned those big brown eyes on him and he'd given in embarrassingly quickly. 

To Thomas's surprise, the valise remained closed while they were decorating. It was only when the place looked sufficiently festive and people started arriving with booze that Chris picked it up again, quickly pecking Thomas on the mouth. "I'll be back soon. Go get yourself a drink, yeah?" 

"But..." 

Chris flashed him a dashing smile that made Thomas go a little weak in the knees. "I want to surprise you. Please?" 

Thomas pulled him back in for another, deeper kiss. Someone walked past them and wolf-whistled, and he broke away with a chuckle. It was still an incredible feeling to be in an environment where he could just do that. He ran a gentle thumb along Chris's mouth. "Alright, surprise me." 

As Chris disappeared into a stock room, Thomas wondered what the surprise could be. Had he bought a nice suit for the occassion? He couldn't for the life of him think of something else that would fit into the small valise. Shrugging to himself, he sipped his drink and chatted to some of the regulars while he waited. 

The surprise turned out to be as unexpected as surprises tend to be, and Thomas nearly choked on his drink when Chris walked out in what could only be described as something that vaguely resembled a Father Christmas costume. It might have been a costume in a past life.Thomas had to hold on to a pillar not to fall over laughing. 

Chris was wearing a beard so flimsy that his own moustache poked through, and the previous Father Christmas had obviously been a sturdier fellow, because the costume hung comically off of Chris's lean frame. Even the hat was too big: it hung low down over his ears and made him look more like a small child than an old man with gravitas. He went straight for Thomas, who found it physically impossible to keep a straight face. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed so hard his tummy hurt. 

"I hear you have been a very naughty boy, Mr. Barrow." People hooted with delight. Chris put on an even deeper, gravellier voice than he was already gifted with, and it did something complicated to Thomas's insides despite the horrendous outfit. 

Someone brought out a chair for Chris to sit on, and he patted his lap. Thomas could see the crowd looking at him expectantly, and he blushed. The thought of putting himself on display in front of everyone was daunting. But it also felt strangely liberating, and with a quick glance at their audience he plonked himself down on top of him. Chris shot him an encouraging smile and instantly put one hand to his back, the other resting on his thigh and rubbing in a soothing gesture. The chair creaked dangerously under their combined weight. 

"So, who's the lucky bloke who gets to take you home tonight, huh?" 

Thomas snorted before schooling his features into a hurt expression. "I came here with someone, sir, but I haven't seen him in a while. He said he would come back, but now I'm not so sure." 

The crowd gasped in mock horror, and Chris shook his head disapprovingly. "Well, that's not right, is it? I will see what I can do for you, Thomas." 

"Thank you, sir," Thomas said, and gave his lanky Father Christmas a peck on the cheek. "My chimney is always open for you." A surprised roar erupted from the crowd and Thomas shot a smug grin at a gaping Chris as he calmly stood up and walked off. He was still chuckling to himself as he sat on a crate to have a smoke, not quite believing he had said that out loud but secretly delighted that he had dared to. 

For the rest of the evening he was Santa's little helper, in the sense that he helped him get mildly sloshed. It turned out that Chris had been Father Christmas at Turton's for the past couple of years, and everyone always looked forward to sitting in his lap and asking for the most outrageous presents. It had become a bit of a tradition, and one Chris was very enthusiastic to participate in. He clearly enjoyed entertaining people. 

People came and went, and Thomas was amazed at how Chris managed to be jolly and fun with every single one of them. He felt like he should feel more jealous of all these men sitting in his boyfriend's lap, but he just felt pride. He knew these people by now, and they knew him, and he trusted them. It was an amazing, warm feeling. His colleagues at Downton were kind and accepting, but they'd never truly understand him the way these men did. 

He smiled to himself, feeling uncharacteristically content, and got another drink. 

"Well, what did you think?" Chris came stumbling over after about an hour of Father Christmas-ing, a little tipsy and almost falling face first into a pile of coats as he tripped over a crate. He'd taken off the hat and beard - thank the lord - but he was still in his oversized coat and trousers. It was strangely endearing. 

"You look bloody ridiculous, like a lad trying on his da's clothes," Thomas told him with a fond look on his face, helping him to sit down next to him without causing any further damage. He was a little tight himself and thought it best not to move too much. 

"Made ye laugh, though." 

Thomas smiled. "That it did." 

"Good," Chris said softly, leaning his shoulder against Thomas's. "That's all I wanted." He knew about him, how low he had been, had seen the faint scars on his wrists. Thomas had felt himself closing off while he was telling him, but Chris had been nothing but supportive and understanding, and kissed him sweetly and vowed to do anything he could to make him happy. And he had kept his promise: from sending him silly newpaper clippings that he thought would make him smile, to turning his breakfast into a work of art when he stayed over, to simply telling jokes and embarrassing anecdotes when they were talking on the phone together. And now the stupid costume. 

Yes, Chris was cocky and a cheeky git and a bit of a showoff, but he was also kind and funny and wouldn't think twice about running into a burning building for the people he loved. And lucky for Thomas, he was one of those people. 

Thomas intertwined their fingers and kissed Chris's hand. "Thank you, love. I haven't laughed this much in a long time." And that was just it, wasn't it? Chris made him laugh, not wryly or mockingly as was his wont, but with a pure, unbridled joy. 

"Hmm, I'm glad to hear that. I love seeing you smile," Chris murmured against his boyfriend's neck, his moustache tickling and making Thomas giggle. Chris snickered in reponse and kissed him soundly on the mouth. 

For the rest of the evening they danced together, twirling until they were both too dizzy to stand. As the other patrons started to leave, Thomas and Chris too collected their things and cleaned up the warehouse as best as they could. As they walked home they used one of their favorite tricks: Chris would pretend to be more drunk than he really was, and Thomas would be the relatively sober bloke dragging his mate back home after a night out. It was their way of walking arm-in-arm without raising suspicion. Chris leaned heavily into Thomas and no one batted an eyelid. It was a little risky, but it was worth it. 

Inside Chris's flat, they quickly rid themselves of their clothing and tumbled into bed. Thomas pulled Chris's thigh up to rest on his hip, kneading the muscle with his hand as he kissed him deeply. As much as he had enjoyed tonight, there was nothing quite like having this handsome man all to himself. 

Chris's muffled groans sent a wave of desire through his body, but as they were both still slightly soused things became a little messy: sloppy kisses wherever they could reach, and even sloppier hand jobs, hips rolling clumsily and their hands knocking together as they tried to pleasure each other - and above all else, lots of giggling. When Thomas came with a startled gasp, Chris laughed breathlessly into a pillow and rutted against his still-shuddering body, following not soon after. 

Before Chris, Thomas hadn't realized that sex could be this much _fun_. This was what it was supposed to feel like. Still panting, he ran a hand through the other man's hair, a smile tugging at his lips. "I love you." 

Chris was gazing at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Look at you," he murmured, his fingers trailing through the hair on Thomas's chest. "How could I not fall in love with you? You're bloody gorgeous, you are." 

A blush bloomed high on Thomas's cheekbones, and he kissed him softly in response. "Not too bad yourself, Mr. Webster." 

"Gee, thanks." 

Thomas shoved him. 

"Oomph. Turn around, will ya." 

"You turn around." 

"No, you. I want to cuddle an' I'm the tall one." Chris was trying to hide a smirk and failing spectacularly. 

"Oh for- you're barely an inch taller!" Thomas mock-pouted. "Fine." Thomas shoved him again for good measure before eagerly turning around and sighing contently as Chris wrapped his arm around him and pressed himself along the length of Thomas's back. He felt a soft kiss on the back of his neck and pulled Chris's arm tighter around him. 

They fell asleep within minutes. 

The next morning Thomas woke up to a loud noise and quiet swearing in the living room. He raised himself up on his elbows and sighed. He had to go back to Downton today: back to the Christmas madness, and back to supressing a large part of himself. He could already feel a melancholy mood start to wash over him. 

Chris chose that moment to lumber into the bedroom, all lean limbs and, to Thomas's delight, no clothes - that is, except for the beard and the hat. Thomas burst out laughing as Chris jumped onto the bed to straddle him. 

"Have you been a good boy, Mr. Barrow?" he rumbled, but the effect was ruined by his own laughter. They wrestled for a bit, ending up facing each other in a tangle of limbs. 

Thomas loved this more than he could ever put into words, this feeling of comfort and peace he had when he was with Chris, the warmth of the man's body against his, there to touch and worship as he pleased. The thought of leaving it behind again, leaving Chris here in York while he went back to work at the House...he swallowed, blinking rapidly to stop himself from crying and ruining the moment. 

But then Chris smiled brightly at him from under his terrible, terrible beard, and Thomas's heart fluttered in his chest. _One day_ , he thought. _One day I will have saved up enough money, and I will find a job in York and come home to you every night._

Thomas yanked off the beard and hat and threw them next to the bed before pulling Chris into a languid kiss. There were a few hours left before he had to be at the station, and he intended to enjoy every second of it.


End file.
